


Discovery

by reapertownusa



Series: The Past is a Foreign Country [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-20
Updated: 2010-07-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 18:43:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/653272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reapertownusa/pseuds/reapertownusa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a hunt John is looking for a release and finds it an unlikely place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Discovery

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Prostitution and father/son incest. 
> 
> Takes place in 2002. First part of an AU verse in which Dean was taken from John shortly after Mary’s death. Eighteen years later John finds his missing son without realizing it's him.

The night’s air was harshly brisk. John pulled the leather of his jacket tighter around him as another salty wind blew down the port town’s streets. Inside he felt cold enough already. This wasn’t his usual thing, patrolling the boardwalk like a junkie craving a hit. He didn’t needed to pay for it, but he was wired from closing up a rusalka hunt and too damn tired for foreplay. 

Commonsense said he shouldn’t waste the cash. As true as that was, getting himself off wouldn’t fill the pit inside him and a cheap hooker cost less than an honest catch. Depending on her tastes, just a couple rounds of drinks added up fast. Either way he’d never see her again so better to skip the work and get straight to the point. 

Sharp clicks of high heels against pavement called his attention. A young woman stood beneath the off colored glow of a nearby streetlight. Soft, blonde locks cascaded over her bare shoulders. Her low-cut tube top and hiked up skirt fit like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination. The girl could have been drop dead gorgeous or uglier than a Hellhound, either way he didn’t see her. All he saw was one of the many things he was trying to forget. 

“Not tonight, sweetheart.” 

Before she could argue her point, he turned away. He continued down the street in search of something as far from that sight as he could find, something to wipe from his mind the smell of burning flesh and the undertones of failure. All he’d ever wanted was a family and he’d failed every last one of them. Sam had hit the road for college the first chance he got with angry words on his tongue and no intention of looking back. His son was right to hate him. He’d lost his mother and his brother both. 

Just when he’d decided to head back to the Impala his eyes caught a figure standing just inside the shadows. It was a boy, barely a man, but at least a few years older than Sam. A simple white t-shirt clung tight enough to hint of the lean muscles hidden beneath. The boy’s jeans were worn and loose, hanging low on his hips. 

With a suggestive quirk of his brow, the boy stepped further into the light. He bowed his head just low enough that his long lashes hooded his intense eyes. John wasn’t one to typically find men attractive in the traditional sense, but this boy was simply beautiful. At John’s approving gaze the boy held himself straighter, his steps becoming certain. 

He stopped only a foot or so from John letting him drink in every detail from the soft shower of freckles over the young man’s cheeks to the overly expressive green eyes that had to look up only slightly to meet John’s. Quiet confidence oozed from the boy whose every feature somehow still screamed of Mary. The resemblance was close enough to be the familiarity he craved yet distant enough to be safe. 

A tongue skirted playfully over supple lips, teasing John’s groin to attention. “Your place or mine?” the boy quipped. By the tone he damn well knew he had John under his spell. 

“Alley. Now.” 

The gruff order was all the higher thinking John could manage in his impatience to see the finely crafted body before him on its knees. Without any pretense the boy turned away, swaggering back towards the shadows and motioning for John to follow. They moved between the brick buildings encased in blackness beneath the starless sky. In the distance a foghorn sounded, but all John heard was the steady fall of the boy’s boots. 

A flickering light spilled into the darkness of the alley. The boy lured John up the steps and into the lit cubbyhole that marked an unnamed building’s side entrance. It hid them from view of the main street while the walls on three sides provided an intimate proximity that John hadn’t been entirely prepared for. 

“How do you want me?” 

The question flowed too easily off the boy’s tongue, momentarily disrupting John’s irrational thought that this stunning boy was his and his alone. Distantly the thought occurred to him that he’d never paid for the company of a male. It didn’t seem to matter now. Right now he wanted it any and everyway he could get it. His mind returned to the visual of those eyes staring up at him. 

“On your knees.” 

With a breathtaking grace the young man sunk to the ground. It was little wonder the knees of his jean had been worn thin. Strong hands roamed over John’s own jeans as he hurriedly unfastened the constraints of the buckle. The boy’s nibble fingers squeezed the growing bulge still concealed there before moving on to work the zipper. 

Pushing the barrier down just enough, the boy’s hand reached beneath the band of John’s briefs to reveal his already hardening erection. When that sassy tongue expertly circled around the head of his cock John damn near bit his own tongue. In this off the track town he had been expecting to have to get off on looks alone, if that. Instead he was flooded with the heat of pleasure as he was taken into the boy’s mouth, those stunning lips moving smoothly against his throbbing shaft. 

Strong fingers grasped his balls, tugging and teasing in all the right ways as the boy took him in deeper with each of John’s unconscious thrusts. His hands dug into the rumpled hair of the bobbing head, greedily pulling the heat surrounding him closer. His silent request was met as the boy went on to deep throat him with an ease John had never before experienced. How the boy was even breathing was beyond John, but so was thinking. 

The pressure built to a blinding intensity just before he released himself into the all too eager mouth. He panted heavily as he looked down at the boy whose tongue was still busy cleaning him. John’s calloused thumb ran over the smooth skin of the freckled cheek to draw those eyes back up to him. There was sadness in them that had undoubtedly been there from the start. John just hadn’t let himself see it because again he saw Mary, Sam and wondered to the man Dean had become.


End file.
